


the comeback kids

by owlvsdove



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Post 2.16] What Fitz does with the toolbox, and what Jemma and May do without it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the comeback kids

It only takes him about twelve seconds to figure it out.

Sure, he felt that small pang of hurt when Jemma didn’t turn on her heel, falling into perfect step with him as he protested. But it’s not in Jemma’s nature to make a big scene. She’d done enough of that today. But as soon as he saw her diagnostics he knew.

Hers is the silent rebellion.

He loves her for it.

 

 

 

 

“You want me to leave, don’t you, Jemma?”

And he’s holding her eyes a little too long, and she knows why. When Fitz is really fighting her he can barely find the strength within him to match the unwavering focus of her eyes. Not today.

See, Fitz knows as well as Jemma does that Bobbi and Mack are transplants to their team. They don’t know Fitz, not really. They don’t know Jemma hardly at all. They don’t know who they were before. All they have is the twisted dramatics of what they are now. And that’s only the surface.

So sure, this looks believable. Fitz has already made his stand, and Jemma knows the other two don’t expect her to follow. So she twists the knife, like his eyes are begging her to. There’s no backing down from this thing she started, not with May locked in a cage somewhere and Skye running for her life and Hunter missing for more than a week.

Jemma started this. She will continue it until the job is done. Or until her heart no longer beats for it.

 

 

 

 

“You’re really doing this,” Jemma says, almost cold, mostly hurt. “You’re really leaving.”

Bobbi looks down, Mack looks away. They feel bad. They didn’t want this. Fitz can see that. So can Jemma. That’s why it’s been so easy to push them into believing the right things.

“ _One_ of us should remain loyal to Coulson,” he bites, but she knows what he’s getting at. He understands. In this plan she’s concocted, they work better apart.

If this is the future she sees for them, he might be interested.

“You’re being stupid,” she jabs.

“Oh, and you’re being smart?” She is. She really is. She’s so brilliant. And don’t think he hasn’t seen how this gets him out of harm’s way. Fitz is coming back prepared, if only to pay her back.

“Will you call?” she asks. She’s diverting a little bit. This doesn’t feel like part of a plan. Jemma’s rocking on her heels and suddenly Fitz has to look away.

“No,” he lies.

She looks back up at him. “Bye, then.” And then Jemma nods at the guard tasked with his final security sweep, because somehow, impossibly, Jemma’s now running both shows. She’s playing chess against herself with this.

She’s winning.

Fitz doesn’t stop to think about what it feels like to have her slip his pack over his shoulders. Instead, he realizes: this is their reunion. Finally.

He walks out the door and doesn’t look back.

 

 

 

 

She made the sandwich in the middle of the night.

To be fair, she also made one for May. She took it down to her late, and chances are May probably wouldn’t eat it, she guesses, but she feels like she should. May’s the only one left, and Jemma loves her so much. She deserves this.

So Jemma walks the sandwich down with a glass of water, lets down the fence and sets it down next to her.

They don’t speak. May just gives her a nod of thanks. But Jemma leaves with a satisfied feeling.

The second sandwich she packages up. She doubts he’s really expecting this, but this is his second ops mission, technically. Well, the second one without her. The first time, he had Grant to watch his back. This time, he only has her.

So she makes him a sandwich, because if there’s anything that’s going to revive them, it’s tradition. Her believing in him and him trusting her. If they can pull this off, then this will be the start of something entirely unbelievable.

_Be safe! Love, Jemma._

 

 

 

 

Of course he lands in Scotland.

This shouldn’t surprise Gonzales’ SHIELD, as Fitz has no doubt they’re keeping tabs on him. But they don’t know that he has the Toolbox, so they have no reason to come here, as long as he doesn’t give them one.

Fitz walks through the door of his childhood home in the middle of the day. It’s empty; Mum’s at work most likely and the dog’s long gone. He wanders, pulling his bags up the creaking staircase, skipping the step that always made him fall on his ass, dropping himself onto his bed and sucking in stale air. He hasn’t been here in millennia, truly.

He takes Jemma’s note and pins it to the wall next to his bed. _Be safe! Love, Jemma._

Every morning he will wake up and remember that his job isn’t finished yet. Every morning he will wake up and remember that his partner in crime is still amongst the wolves.

 

 

 

 

Jemma visits May again later that day.

“Fitz is gone,” she says.

May nods thoughtfully.

“He said he couldn’t stay here any longer because I offered to open Fury’s Toolbox for them.”

May says nothing.

“Are you mad at me?”

“You do what you have to do to survive, Simmons,” May says, edge in her voice. But she’s avoiding the question for a reason.

“I’m sure they’ll be kind to you. You’re such a valuable agent,” Jemma says, sounding as close to vapid as she can. She has to be innocuous right now. She has to stay hidden in plain sight.

“Gonzales offered me a position on their board of directors.”

Jemma’s eyebrows shoot up, genuinely surprised.

“Are you going to take it?”

“Considering it.”

Jemma processes that. “You could have a real say in how things are done around here, May. And I’m sure Coulson will come around eventually,” Jemma adds. Innocent. Light. Positive. She can do that, she can be that girl.

“We’ll see,” May says, but Jemma knows it’s over then. Independently, May and Jemma have come to the same conclusion: fight your way out from within.

To escape some traps, you have to fall into them completely.

 

 

 

 

He doesn’t want to keep it in the house. He’s takes a walk around town with a mystery burning a hole in his pocket.

There’s an old garage he used to work at that’s still kicking – their equipment is low-tech to the extreme, but Fitz is back down to his barest roots.

“Allan?”

An older gentleman pops his head up from the carburetor he’s working on. “Leo?”

“All right, Allan?”

“What are you doing back in town?”

He sticks his hands in his pockets, shrugging, toying with the Toolbox in his fist. “I’m on vacation.”

“You seen your mum yet?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve got a project I want to work on. Do you think you have room for me here?”

Allan smiles.

 

 

 

 

May takes her seat at the Board’s long table. Jemma watches her settle, leaning against the wall close to her, observing.

“Today,” Gonzales starts. “We are welcoming an addition to our Board of Directors. Melinda May. The Cavalry.”

Jemma watches as May resists baring her teeth. She claps politely, and May shoots her a look, like _don’t push it_ , like _you’re a nerd._ _Stop trying to make this palatable._

Jemma smiles at her enthusiastically, sparkling with pride.

“Our primary objective,” Gonzales continues, as the room dies down, “Is controlling the dangerous use of gifteds.”

“Why must we use them at all?” Jemma mutters to herself, already unable to control herself.

“Do you have something to say, Agent Simmons?”

Bobbi suddenly sits up straighter.

“Can we really trust ourselves to utilize gifteds safely? Why must we use them at all? They’re people, not weapons,” she argues.

“Skye is a friend of hers,” Bobbi says to Gonzales, and suddenly Jemma is angrier than before.

“Skye _is_ my friend, but that’s not really relevant,” she bites. “We can understand them, yes, we can help them. But we shouldn’t collect them for use.”

“You were invited to this meeting as a courtesy to Agent May,” Gonzales reminds her.

“I thought this was a democracy,” she spits.

Bobbi intervenes quickly. “We agree with you, Jemma. We don’t want anyone to collect gifteds, that’s why we need to get Coulson back and make sure he’s not.”

It takes all her strength, but Jemma bites her tongue. She hopes this looks like her seeing their point. But really, this isn’t about Coulson. This is about taking control of SHIELD. This is about proving that no one else can just come in and destroy the institution she’s committed herself to.

Jemma doesn’t care which SHIELD she works for. As long as she’s in control.

 

 

 

 

When Mary gets home, her son is sitting on the sofa, socked-feet up on her coffee table, wrapped in an old quilt and watching reruns of Pingu.

“Leopold Alexander Fitz,” she seethes.

“Hi, Mum.”

She swats him in the head with a throw pillow.

This is the price of forgetting to call.

 

 

 

  

“Have you heard from Fitz?” Bobbi asks, trying to be considerate.

Jemma turns her head. “No.”

Bobbi places a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

Jemma sighs. The price of not being allowed to call.

 

 

 

 

“You gonna tell me what you’re working on, there?” Allan calls. He’s asked every day the same way for a week.

“No, sir.”

“All right, then.”

Fitz can’t disable the biometric scans without setting off the self-destruct triggers. But he could override the system and recode it to someone else. The smart thing to do, obviously, would be to do a hard reset, recoding the device with his own metrics. That way only he could open it.

But Fury set this thing without Coulson even knowing, without him even being in the room. Just in case of emergencies. Which means there’s a way to feed it new data without doing a walkthrough.

He should just set it as himself and open the damn thing.

But he’s not going to.

 

 

 

 

Despite Jemma’s outburst at the first meeting, they let her come back to observe. To placate her, she imagines. May fits in because May can blend in anywhere. That’s her purpose. Every once in a while, dutifully, she brings up Coulson’s imminent return, but it’s a ploy to keep focus on him rather than the real prize. The Board still don’t know Fitz has the Toolbox and they both intend to keep it that way.

Plus, it doesn’t hurt May’s reputation of strictly loyal soldier.

Mack comes around every so often to offer her some help, but the decoy she made is foolproof. Seemingly benign and impenetrable. Just like the real thing.

“We need to get Fitz back,” Mack says at today’s meeting, and Jemma sits up straight.

“We can’t make him return, Mack,” Gonzales says, about to wave him off, but Mack stops him.

“Simmons and I haven’t been able to make any progress on Fury’s Toolbox. I think if we can get Fitz back the three of us might be able to crack it.”

Mack is proving his weakness right now. Not that caring about Fitz isn’t a weakness they all share.

“We can reach out to him,” Gonzales concedes. “But no one can make him do anything. He is a free man,” he adds, as if to appease Jemma directly.

“She can,” Mack says. “She can get him to come back.” And Mack looks at her. He almost looks angry.

“Can you?” Gonzales asks.

“I-I don’t know,” she stutters. “I don’t even know where he is.” That’s a lie. She knows where he’d go.

“He’s at his mother’s residence in Glasgow.” Ah, so they’re watching. Not unexpected.

“You could at least call, Simmons,” May says quietly. “Try to talk some sense into him.”

Get a status report.

“Okay,” she mumbles, nodding.

 

 

 

 

“Mum, phone!”

“I have ears, Leo,” Mary snipes back. “Hello?”

Fitz turns the TV up louder, just to be a shit.

“Jemma, is that you?”

Fitz turns the TV off and stands up.

“Well, perhaps you can tell me why my son is camped out on my couch in his shorts.”

“ _Mum_ ,” he groans.

“Quit his job?”

“Mum, _give me the phone_.”

“Well, did you quit your job?...No, of course you didn’t, you have some sense.”

Mary pauses, and then laughs. She hands the phone to Fitz. “She wants to speak to you.”

“Of course she bloody wants to speak to me,” he mutters as his mother retreats. “Jemma?”

“Hello, Fitz.”

She sounds…strange. Solemn. “What do you want?” he asks sharply.

“They asked me to call. The Board. They want you to come back.”

They’re being observed.

“You must be nuts.” _I can’t come back yet._

“We can’t open the Toolbox, Fitz. And Coulson’s still not back.” _I’m trying to hold them but I’m having trouble._

“I’m not coming back just to help you betray Coulson and May.” _Where’s May?_

“May’s joined the Board. She encouraged me to call. It’s not so bad here.” _It’s getting bad here_.

“I just… I can’t do that, Jemma.” _I need more time_.

“Mack said I was the only one who could talk you into coming back.”

He doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, actually. He flushes.

“He’s not wrong.” _Say the word_.

“So come back.” _Now._

“I’m not comfortable just tossing Coulson and everything we built aside.”

“Well… how long until you are comfortable?”

“Jemma!”

“Will you just think about it, please? We could really use your help. Everyone misses you.”

“Do you miss me?”

There’s a rustle instantly, like she’s picking the phone up off the dock. So they were in the room with her.

She doesn’t say anything though. In the background he can hear bodies shuffling out. A door shuts.

Neither of them trusts the illusion of privacy.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“You’re not just saying that to get me to come back?”

“Of course not!” she shouts, sensitive. “Besides, you know I can’t lie!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that anymore,” he says.

“I suppose that’s fair,” she murmurs.

“I miss you, too,” he murmurs back.

He can feel her breathing somehow, breath hitching and heart skipping.

They’ve always found it easier to talk when they don’t have to look each other in the face.

 

 

 

 

May finds Jemma before she falls asleep, knocking on the door of her room softly. She slips inside quickly once she gets the okay.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

Jemma holds herself. “Fine.”

“How’s Fitz doing?”

Jemma locks eyes with her. “I think he might be willing to come back soon.”

“That’s good.”

“I just hope we’re doing the right thing,” she whispers, suddenly doubting everything she’s put into motion.

“Fitz knows where he belongs. It’s the same place you and I belong.” Here. Running the op. Together.

“You’re right.”

“I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished here,” May says, and Jemma’s eyes fly wide in shock. Jemma has received praise from May before, but usually after quite a bit of pestering and goading. This is different. This isn’t a friendly jab or a childish appeasement. May is proud. She made May proud.

And the job’s not finished yet.

 

 

 

 

Fitz keeps his own files, which means he has a copy of Jemma’s biometric makeup. This would probably seem weird to the average person, but today it’s coming in handy.

Today he makes the call.

He thanks Allan for the workshop space, warns his mother he’ll be leaving just as abruptly as he came. He packs his bag back up and hides the Toolbox in his pocket, dampened against x-ray tech.

This is it.

He calls Gonzales directly.

 

 

 

 

Jemma knows he’s coming – she received the verbal equivalent of a condescending pat on the head when she was informed – but she still catches her breath when she sees him at the door.

Mack jumps up with a genial _Turbo!_ and Bobbi greets him with a smile as they both bound over to welcome him back; but Jemma stays behind, waiting for his eyes.

Blue. And he’s done it.

And a smile breaks over her in relief. She makes her way across the room quickly and grabs hold of him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. He’s murmuring some comforting nonsense in her ear but she’s focused on the feel of him slipping something into her pocket, using her belt loop as leverage for just a second too long. She lets out a shaky breath and pulls away.

“You did it,” she murmurs. And then she covers it up: “You came back.”

“Course I did. It was inevitable, really.”

“I knew you’d see,” Mack says. “I knew you’d understand that you belong here with us.”

Fitz’s expression spoils. “My work is here,” he says stonily. “But I don’t betray my friends.”

“And you won’t have to, Fitz,” Bobbi appeases. “We all want to work together here.”

Blissfully, Fitz holds his tongue. Jemma breathes out.

“So,” Mack says. “You want to get to work on the Toolbox?”

“He only just got here!” Jemma argues.

“Hell, Mack. Can’t I go to my room first?” Fitz seconds. He and Jemma fall in step as they walk quickly out of the lab and down the hall. “Plus, I’m bloody starving.”

“Didn’t you eat at the airport?” she crows.

“Well, of course I did, Jemma. But that was hours ago, and I—” He shuts the door to his bunk and immediately switches gears, turning away from her to let down his bags. “May knows to meet us here in a few minutes. I made a lot of progress with the Toolbox. I managed to recode the bio—”

Jemma grabs his shoulder. She can’t speak. She can’t speak because she needs something else.

Fitz turns, and he frowns in confusion at the look on her face. “Wha—?”

She pulls him in close to kiss him. Suddenly they’re too fervent to stay gentle; she pushes him back against the dresser hard, holding him by the scruff of his neck, desperate to get him even closer still. Oh, he’s never letting go. He’s got hold of her now and she can feel it in his touch – he is never letting go. She’s fine with that. More than fine. This wasn’t inevitable before; they’ve had too many struggles to consider this an act of fate. She sent him away, so she brought him back. She’s making this happen now. She sets the course of her life, and it’s going to unfold with him. No matter what happens from this moment forward. They are some holy unit once again.

He pulls off his jacket and walks her back against the wall. No leaving, no hiding.

Ignoring the fact that they’ve almost gotten away with murder, and how fucking incredible that is, she quite enjoys just him on his own.

She holds the back of his head so she can kiss down his neck; he loses focus and leans his weight more heavily on her, weak with interest in this continuing.

“Jemma—” he gasps, and then the door opens.

Jemma squeaks and pushes him away.

May sighs. “Do I really need to be here for this?”

Jemma starts stuttering and can’t stop, so Fitz covers her mouth with his hand, reaching back into her pocket to show May the device.

“You figured out how to open it?”

“Yes,” he says, letting go of Jemma, who’s fallen silent.

“So what’s inside?” May asks.

“I haven’t opened it yet.”

“You...”

“Haven’t opened it.”

“Why not?” May asks through her teeth.

“I coded it to Jemma.”

“What?” Jemma exclaims. “Fitz, why would you do that?”

“So if they found me with it they still couldn’t open it.”

“But they think I’m in their pocket,” she argues. “If they’ve found out what you’ve done they’ll expect me to open it.”

“Then it’s time to move now,” May says, already over her annoyance at Fitz. “Do it, Simmons. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Fitz holds it out to her, and she takes it gingerly, lining up her fingerprints on the scanners. A retinal scanner opens, so she holds it up to her eye.

And the little box unfurls.

Jemma puts it down quickly on Fitz’s desk and the three of them crowd around it as the holographic display warms up.

 

 

 

 

_Phil_ , the image of Nick Fury starts.

_You’re at the helm now. Remember what SHIELD is founded on, and you’ll make us proud to have fought beside you._

 

 

 

 

_PASSWORD_ blinks below his face.

“Protection,” Jemma murmurs, and the image of Nick Fury vanishes to reveal file after file, an entire database of secrets.

The three of them exchange looks.

“We’re gonna need more time,” Fitz breathes.

The women nod.

 

 

 

 

They hide the Toolbox under a loose panel in Fitz’s floor. May tries to take it away for safekeeping but Jemma tenses up, so she leaves it in neutral territory.

Now May is sat on Fitz’s bed, Jemma’s head in her lap, Fitz sitting across from them in his desk chair bouncing his knee. They’re all thinking about the next move.

“If we devote ourselves, we can keep this up for a long time,” May starts quietly.

“Why are we doing this?” Jemma asks.

“You know why.” But Jemma just keeps looking up at her, waiting. “For ourselves. For the SHIELD the world deserves from us.”

Jemma smiles. “We can do it. Right, Fitz?” She raises her head to look at him.

He nods steadily. “Right.”

“It’s going to be difficult. We might lose people. I’m not convinced we’ll see Coulson or Skye or Hunter again for a long time,” May warns.

“We’re not keeping SHIELD warm for them,” Jemma says, starry-eyed with purpose and ambition as she stares up at the ceiling, shoulders strengthening. “This is our fight.”

May is hesitant, but she nods. “The three of us are taking over.”

“Together,” Fitz says.

“Together,” Jemma confirms.

And with that insurance, they plan their rise to power. A family in arms.


End file.
